“Did you say Edward Gardiner? Of Gracechurch Street?” Logan asked.
“Do you know him, sir?” Astor asked.
Rawlings shook his head. “No. I have only heard gossip surrounding his foray into an unsuccessful venture. I am beginning to doubt the rumors were true.” Rawlings turned to his valet. “I believe we have been deceived by Mr. Cuffage.”
“What does this Mr. Cuffage look like?” Astor asked.
Rawlings began the description with the man’s height—short. By the time he finished drawing a picture of the man and explaining the purpose for their connection, he felt a wave of uneasiness flow through his whole body as Astor continuously shook his head and repeatedly uttered one word-no, no, no. Logan remained stone-faced, but Rawlings understood he, too, was concerned.
Astor scoffed. “Cuffage? No. I know the man and he is not honest. He cheated my friend Gardiner.” When he identified the man, Rawlings surprised every person in the room with his loud gasp.
With a tremble in his voice, Rawlings asked, “Please, are there writing materials I could use? I need to send a message to my partners immediately. I also need to find the fastest ship headed to England. This is of the direst urgency.”
Mrs. Astor handed Rawlings paper and a perfectly sharpened writing pen. He scribbled the note and address it in great haste. “I only pray this letter arrives to Darcy in time.”
“And Gardiner is not destroyed, as well as your friends,” Astor remarked.
The men left without further delay. Astor and Livingston accompanied Rawlings to the dock, and they located a ship heading towards England the next morning. Livingston spoke to the captain. “This message must be given the highest priority, even if the British come aboard. It is urgent this letter find its way to Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, London, England.” Rawlings handed the captain additional coins to pay a messenger upon docking.”
“You are fortunate because you are looking at one of the new sloops. It travels across the ocean in less than a month. Before long I will be the captain of the Pacifica, a ship which will require no more than a fortnight to go the distance! Imagine crossing the ocean in fourteen days! Alas, for now, your mail will take over three weeks.”
Comfortable with the captain’s assurances, the men returned to Water Street to map out a strategy. As the day was growing late, Astor invited everyone for dinner in his new home. Livingston declined, but indicated he would make his carriage available for Rawlings and Logan to leave at their convenience.
The men spent a long night hammering out the details necessary for collaboration. Impressed with the wit and intelligence shown by Rawlings, Astor remarked that he liked the man because he was not as haughty as most men of his status. Logan, he concluded, was a valet masquerading as a gentleman, but he added that he did not care. In America, anyone could climb the social ladder, regardless of parentage—even a music instrument maker turned fur trader.
“Did you say your second son would take over your business?” Rawlings asked with raised brows.
“William is not feebleminded, and in America, I am free to leave my inheritance to any my children or I may divide it in any manner amongst them.” Astor learned forward. “I am a third son of a butcher, and I do not hold to the practice of leaving my estate to the eldest. My wealth shall be given to whichever child earns the right to manage my inheritance, and that would not be my eldest son.”
Rawlings laughed. “I believe my father thinks like you, but the law of primogeniture in England is specific. My brother will inherit everything and against his desires.”
“Your journey brought you to the land of opportunity, as many second and third sons discovered upon arriving on our shores.”
“I noticed the same pioneer spirit in Boston as well.”
Astor sat upright. “You made connections in Boston?”
“Indeed. Frances Cabot Lowell was gracious in introducing us to the prominent families there. We met Lowell when we crossed the ocean together.” Rawlings turned to Logan, who nodded in agreement.
Astor furrowed his brow and stared at Rawlings through narrowed slits. “Are you are speaking the truth about Lord Blake and Mr. Darcy partnering with tradesmen’s sons.”
“We signed documents to back up our partnership, all five of us. While not the usual practice in England, we need each other to be successful in our alliance.” Rawlings found Astor to be a little brusque at times, but he discovered it was because the man did not suffer fools or foolish talk gladly.
“Would your partners object to adding my friend, Gardiner, to your alliance?”
“Once they learn the truth, they will be knocking at his door with their hat in their hands.” Rawlings laughed, and then his face turned somber. “I pray the letter reaches Darcy before any harm is done. He must act quickly.”
“If you believe Gardiner will be added as a partner, then you may include me in your plans. I am attempting to open a trading post on the other side of this continent. It will make the global trade route complete. You see, I, too, had the same vision.” Astor picked up his pen and prepared a letter of recommendation for Rawlings to take to his old friend. “Please convey my good wishes when you see him.”
While Astor was busy writing, Rawlings prepared a list of the terms for a partnership. After studying the requirements, Astor agreed to have his lawyer prepare a written contract. By the end of the visit, they had hammered out all the details for establishing a partnership. Between the Boston contacts and Astor, the global strategy was now complete.
***
The first action the captain of the sloop took upon landing in Liverpool was to summon a messenger. His ship had made it across the ocean in six weeks, without interference by the British Navy but delayed by the weather. He waited for the messenger and enjoyed the unusually warm air for the first day of March. It was not long before he handed over two letters to the courier, and instructing him to deliver Rawlings’ letter first. He gave the man a shilling, which was only one quarter of the funds Rawlings had given him for the express post. The captain, then as now, believed the amount given exceeded any normal payment, and reduced it accordingly. He, of course, pocketed the difference. He also pocketed the coin given to him to deliver a different letter to a different man, also one noted as urgent.
After placing one letter in his satchel, the messenger had to squint at the scribbled address on the second one before he glowered at the captain, who shrugged and exclaimed, “Do the best you can,” and then promptly walked away.
The messenger carried the unreadable express for several days. He did do his best to decipher the address, but after several unsuccessful delivery attempts, he placed the letter back in his satchel. He forgot about it until a fortnight had passed and a courier sent by a Mr. Bingley handed him another post. The writing was also undecipherable, but at least the courier had told him the address. He delivered Mr. Bingley’s post that day and, noticed the similarities in the address with the earlier letter. He pulled it out and compared them. The scribbled addresses seemed to match. He handed both letters to Darcy’s doorman and hurried away.
And so, after days buried in a satchel, Rawlings’ letter now found its home on the silver holder in Darcy’s study, along with other non-urgent mail. This now somewhat crumpled and dirtied missive stayed on the top of the letters on the silver holder until the next day, when the maid hired to replace the pregnant servant accidently knocked the tray over and scattered the letters everywhere. She was too new and needed the position to tell anyone what she did. She put the letters back in what she hoped was their original sequence, but Rawlings’ letter had slipped behind several rarely used journals, where it remained unopened, unread, and forgotten.
***
“My lord, Mr. Cuffage has arrived and he indicated he had urgent business to discuss with you.”
The elderly man nodded, and handed the young maiden’s merlin to the falconer and turned to her. “My dear, your little pigeon hawk is training well. You must study Frederick
II’s The Art of Falconry. Everything you need to learn is contained within the covers. Now, I would like to stay and provide a few more suggestions, but please excuse me, I am obliged to see to this problem.”
“Of course. When you return though, my hawk will win.” She glared at her great uncle with a slight curl of her lips.
The old man laughed. “You need to practice more before your bird can beat mine. Remember, I am the champion. However, you showed your true spirit just now, and as I have said many times, if you wish to gain what you want out of life, do not cower or grovel around any gentleman. Do not speak about fashion and clothes, instead offer a challenge to the young man. If you do, one day, you will be a duchess.” The Falcon smiled before walking away to meet Mr. Cuffage.
“My Lord.” Cuffage bowed. “I have disturbing news that just arrived from America.”
“Shall I retrieve my champion Peregrine? Do I need to identify you as his target today? He will attack small vermin, such as rats and mice upon my command. I do not like disturbing news.” The old man smiled as Cuffage flinched. “A jest. Do not look so worried. What have you learned?”
“Mr. Rawlings has established connections with a prominent Boston family. The diversion away from New York did not prove successful.”
“Humph. How did this happen? The purpose for landing in Boston was to provide a delay long enough for our agent to reach Astor first, not to assist him in finding trading connections in a different city.”
“I have just received word from America.” Cuffage pulled the letter from his coat pocket. “Mr. Astor had been on a trip out west, and was not available for several weeks. We have no one in Boston to undo the arrangements made between Mr. Rawlings and Mr. Lowell. I understand the Lowell family trades with China. ”
Turning to remove the shadow falling over the letter, the old man read the words written on the paper. He folded it up and handed it back to Cuffage. “China is the most important key to completing their global strategy, as made clear in their documents that Whitson stole from Netherfield Park. This is distressing news, but… perhaps Mr. Rawlings can be persuaded to remain in America, where opportunities are plentiful, and abandon Darcy’s alliance. Surely the Lowells would do business with a man they know rather than strangers across the ocean. Are there any other issues?”
“Darcy has discovered our warnings to the tradesmen. I have called off our man for now.”
The lord nodded, and waited to hear the next problem he sensed was coming.
Cuffage did not disappoint, although he stepped backwards before revealing it. “Mr. Kent has been obtaining contracts and agreements with the tradesmen.”
“I assumed he would be the one Darcy asked to do exactly that, so what is the problem?”
“The contracts are made with Mr. Kent, and not a single indication the alliance or Mr. Darcy appears in the signed documents. I suspect he has his own agenda.”
“Well, he is his father’s son.”
“Apparently so.”
The old man directed Cuffage’s attention to his bird of prey just landing on the falconer’s arm. “Do you know what they say is the most impressive skill the Peregrine has?” The old man laughed. “It is able to kill two birds with one mighty swoop.”
His grand niece could hear the laughter several hundred yards away.
***
On a bright, crisp, mid-March day, the butler opened the door and peered at the man standing in front of him, fashionably dressed for the early spring weather. The man handed his card and watched while Geoffries studied the front and back before nodding his head and disappearing inside.
Geoffries entered his master’s study. “Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy held his finger up in the air until he finished the sentence he was writing. Geoffries handed him the card as soon as he put his pen down. Reading the name, Darcy shook his head. “No. This man is not welcome here at any time. My door is closed to him.”
Geoffries started to leave when he turned around. “He indicated he had important letters for you from—”
Darcy held up his open palm. “I am not interested.” He spoke in a tone that Geoffries understood. On this matter, his master would brook no discussion.
Rising to his full height, the butler nodded, and returned to the man waiting at the front door. He handed his card back. “I am sorry, sir. Mr. Darcy is not available at any time. He is not interested in your letters.”
Mr. Gardiner sighed, shook his head and departed, taking Rawlings’ messages with him.
***
The last week of March arrived, causing a scurry of activity at Darcy House. His trip to Rosings the following morning was bad timing. Darcy assumed Rawlings had reached New York City by now, but he was waiting for confirmation. Bingley had left for the north to be with the Watt family. A somewhat somber Blake had become more involved with his Uncle Harrowby. Finally, Kent continued strengthening his friendship with Georgiana.
On any given day, they were in the music room or the library. Nevertheless, Darcy admitted he had neither witnessed anything inappropriate in their behavior. He could not decipher if Kent was being friendly or flirting with his sister. Most days, friendliness won the argument.
Still, his concern grew, and their guarded closeness suggested they were keeping a secret. Darcy’s thoughts often returned to last summer and, in retrospect, the signs did seem similar in Georgiana’s demeanor, but this time there was a difference. Kent was wealthy, had no need of her dowry, and did not seek any revenge. While that was in his favor, Darcy understood fortune hunters hunted not just for money. Social status was the other reason unmarried persons from the highest circles of London society were pursued. The interlopers were all around town, but everyone considered climbers a worse match than an insolvent peer. Family connections, even impoverished ones, opened doors, and doors opened opportunities. Social climbers brought nothing to the marriage, except money.
Darcy kept busy while he waited for Victoria’s regular morning call. With the impending trip, he needed to secure her assistance in keeping a sharp eye on Georgiana. Mrs. Annesley indicated his sister seemed to share her secrets with her cousin and suggested he elicit her help.
“Fitzwilliam. You wanted to speak with me?” Victoria peeked through the partially opened door.
“Yes, come in and... Mrs. Annesley, please come in as well, and close the door behind you.” Darcy rose from behind the desk and moved to the two chairs in front of the fireplace. Mrs. Annesley busied herself with studying the books on the small table next to the window.
Victoria slid into the chair across from her cousin. She waited while Darcy fiddled with his hands and composed his words.
“Victoria, I seek your help.”
“I, of course, will do anything I can. Go on.”
“Georgiana—”
“I have witnessed no problems. Do not tell me something has happened?”
Darcy shook his head. “No, but I am concerned about her growing friendship with Mr. Kent.”
“Mr. Kent? Do you oppose him as an acquaintance?”
“I do not. However, I am worried where their friendship is heading.”
Victoria laughed aloud before covering her mouth with her gloved hand. “Do not worry. They are merely friends. Georgiana told—”
“I see the situation differently. You have not viewed them as I have when they were alone in the music room.”
Victoria glanced at the chaperon. “Mrs. Annesley is with them. There has been no evidence of improper behavior by either one.” She leaned forward and spoke in whisper. “Darcy, you should be ashamed to think of your friend in that manner.”
“But Georgiana did exercise poor judgment last summer. I cannot allow her to make another similar mistake.”
“Mr. Wickham’s behavior was above only that of a callous rake. But, are you aware of a deficiency in Mr. Kent? I would like to be informed if there is anything dishonorable about the man. I have seen only goodness in him. He is pleasant, charming in fac
t. He is not for want of fortune. His single defect is he was born the son of a tradesman. If he had been a lord, you would not react this way. Would you react this same way if Mr. Kent showed similar attentions to Anne or me?”
A World of Expectations_Book 2_The Confrontation Page 25